


An Old Friend

by Innwich



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, First Blade, Light Angst, M/M, Mark of Cain, Post-Episode: s09e23 Do You Believe In Miracles?, Post-Season/Series 09, Reconciliation, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2128860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innwich/pseuds/Innwich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel ran into Dean on a hunt. They started off on the wrong foot, but ended up somewhere better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Old Friend

Castiel searched the crime scene. The local newspaper claimed that the victims were stabbed and then burnt from the inside out, leaving holes where their eyes should be. It sounded like an angel was responsible for the deaths, but now, Castiel wasn’t so sure.

There were traces of sulfur in the bedroom, toilet, and kitchen. Sulfur lined the insides of every piece of clothing in the closets. Demons had been staying in this house for a certain of time.

The victims were most likely demonic.

It was a dead end, and Castiel had no time for dead ends.

The floorboards behind him creaked. Castiel pulled out his sword, barely raising it quick enough to block the bony blade inches from his back.

Castiel spun around to get a better look at his attacker, and nearly dropped his sword.

He hadn’t seen him in a long time. Years.

Castiel’s first thought was to run and get into his car and drive. He could see a similar thought flashed through Dean’s mind, before Dean squared his shoulders and stood straighter, trying to appear bigger than he actually was.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said, lowering the First Blade.

“Dean,” Castiel said.

“Could’ve killed you.”

“I have no doubt about it,” Castiel said dryly. “I take it the inhabitants of this house were demons and you killed them?”

“What?” Dean crossed his arms. He was testy. “You have a problem with demons dying now?”

“No,” Castiel said. “I’m glad they were demons. I thought they were innocent humans murdered by angels.”

“Okay, good,” Dean said. He nodded tensely. “You’re not here to stop me. The only good demons are dead demons. We’re on the same page.”

“Yes,” Castiel said.

After all these years, Dean still looked the same as Castiel last saw him. He was one of the few demons that retained their own body before they turned demonic, which made this reunion less jarring than it would have been otherwise. Dean could pass for Sam’s younger brother. 

“You look good,” Dean said. He nodded at the Lincoln Continental parked in front of the house. “Your wings still not working?”

“No,” Castiel said. “They are not built to recover from the damage that was inflicted on us all.”

“Are you going somewhere? I could give you a hand if you want. You know, teleportation and all.”

“I’m in no hurry.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Dean said.

They fell silent. It was not like the comfortable silence they used to share. Dean fidgeted. Castiel wondered why Dean didn’t teleport away, if he couldn’t wait to be rid of Castiel. That was what Castiel would have done.

Perhaps Dean was waiting for Castiel to turn his back on him before disappearing. That would leave Castiel talking to thin air for a few seconds before turning around and doing a comedic double-take.

Like a scene from the Batman movies.

Castiel was very good at making pop culture references these days.

“Where have you been, Dean?” Castiel said at the same time as Dean said, “What about a burger?”

Castiel frowned. “What about it?”

“Let’s go have a burger,” Dean said brightly.

Before Castiel could react, Dean put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder.

Castiel’s mouth tasted foul with the scent of brimstone, as the scenery warped around them.

The next second, they were sitting in a corner table at a diner that smelt of fried potatoes and greasy beef. Castiel recognized it as the diner at the outskirt of town; he had stopped here for directions that morning.

Dean was studying a menu like he had been doing nothing else for the last five minutes. He wasn’t holding the First Blade. There was, instead, a wrapped bundle on Dean’s lap.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you two came in,” a waitress said, coming over to their table. Castiel slipped his sword into his trench coat. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’ll have a cheeseburger, please,” Dean said. Castiel stared at Dean. Dean’s eyes were as clear as ever as he grinned up at the waitress.

“What about you, sweetheart?” the waitress asked Castiel, after a long pause.

Castiel didn’t answer.

“Do you want anything, Cas?” Dean said.

“An explanation,” Castiel said.

The waitress looked between the two of them. “I’ll come back later.”

As soon as the waitress was out of earshot, Castiel said flatly, “You ran away.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“You ran away with Crowley.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“You ran away, and wouldn’t let Sam tell me anything,” Castiel tried again, “despite knowing I looked for you everywhere.”

“Look who’s talking.”

They sat silently. A doorbell chimed. A waitress went over to greet the new customer. Castiel was tempted to make a joke about bells and angel wings, but thought better of it.

“I forgot how frustrating you can be,” Castiel said.

“Can we talk about something else?” Dean said.

“You hated teleportation,” Castiel said.

Dean groaned. “That’s what you want to talk about?”

Castiel refused to budge. “The Blade changes you.”

“No shit,” Dean said. “You know, I ran across a couple of depowered angels a month ago. They got a bone to chew with you. They tried to kill me, ‘cause, you know, we are friends that never see each other and stuff.”

Castiel frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“What did you do to them?” Dean said.

“Nothing.”

“You’re a shitty liar, Cas.”

“Fine. I take the grace of other angels who refuse to leave Earth and intend to misuse their powers,” Castiel said. “That’s why I’ve been searching for human killings committed by angels. That’s why I ran into you.”

“Not that I like your douchey brothers, Cas, but why?”

“I’ll die if I run out of grace,” Castiel said. “It’s the only way for me to recharge my batteries.”

“Fuck.”

“Sam is looking for a substitute for angelic grace in the books of the Men of Letters,” Castiel said. “I don’t think he’ll find it.”

“So that’s what Sam’s been doing in the bunker,” Dean muttered.

“You don’t know what he’s been doing?”

“Yeah, I can’t get into the bunker if he doesn’t want me to. There are all sorts of warding in the place.”

Castiel was uncomfortably reminded again that Dean was not exactly the Dean he knew anymore. “How are you, Dean?”

“Not great,” Dean said. He flashed his black eyes, and sighed. “But it could be worse. I’m still hunting.”

Castiel nodded. “That’s good. It’s good you find a purpose in life.”

“Found out I can’t fucking die as long as I have the Mark.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said.

“It sucks ass,” Dean said. Castiel wondered about the logistics of that and quickly gave up.

“I’m barred from Heaven. My brothers and sisters, understandably, don’t want me to be near them.”

“Not exactly making me feel better, Cas,” Dean said.

“Misery loves company.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Thanks a lot, buddy.”

“What do you plan to do about your dilemma?” Castiel said.

“Guess I’ll just be waiting for someone with enough juice to come along and kill me,” Dean said. “Until then, I’m gonna gank demons and creepies-crawlies and take them down with me. Gotta keep hunting.”

“Did you ask Cain?” Castial said. “Perhaps there is a way to reverse the Mark.”

“Cain doesn’t know. There is no way, unless you want to open the cage and ask Lucifer himself, which is the last thing I want to do.” Dean added sharply, “And don’t you try it either.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise me, Cas,” Dean said.

“I promise I won’t release Lucifer to ask him about the Mark,” Castiel said. At Dean’s huff, Castiel amended, “I promise I won’t release Lucifer for any reason.”

“That’s better,” Dean said. “Do you know how many times Sam try to talk to me about my feelings everyday?”

“At least three times if he can find you,” Castiel said, remembering a drunken Sam crying over it while he sat with him in a bar. It was a humbling experience; Castiel had to endure stares from the other patrons for the entire evening.

“Yeah. I can’t stop thinking how Cain could have killed Abaddon himself and then I would never be in this mess.”

“Did you kill Cain?” Castiel said.

“What? No,” Dean said. “Why would you think that?”

“Sam told me the First Blade makes you want to kill,” Castiel said. “It lowers your inhibitions for killing. Since Cain is largely responsible for your predicament, it is only logical that you’d succumb to the blade’s influence and kill Cain.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, dude.”

Castiel took it as the sarcasm that it was intended as and didn’t reply.

“You know what? I did think about killing him, but I figured he would like that. He doesn’t get to drop off that easily,” Dean said. “How about Metatron? Did you gank him?”

“No, I took his grace. He’s human now.”

“Really?” Dean said, surprised. “And you let him go, just like that? After everything he’s done?”

“He is sitting in the most remote cell that Heaven offers,” Castiel said.

“You’re leaving him there until he dies,” Dean said.

“No. No one dies in Heaven,” Castiel said. “I’m leaving him there forever. There’ll be no stories for him. Bedtime or otherwise.”

Dean laughed. Castiel didn’t think the joke was that funny, but Dean laughed so hard he was clutching at his side like it hurt. Then Castiel started to laugh uncertainly, though he didn’t understand why they were laughing.

“Bedtime stories. Damn,” Dean said, reducing his laughter to chuckles.

“I make sure no one talks to Metatron about what is happening outside the cells, or gives him any material for writing. He has nothing but his own company.”

“You are a sadistic asshole, you know that?” Dean wiped at his eyes.

Castiel considered the remark and Dean’s genuine smile. He wasn’t sure if he should be insulted. “Is that a compliment?”

“Sure it is.” Dean grinned. “Why did we ever stop talking?”

“I think,” Castiel said, “we’re both ashamed of what we’ve become.”

“Yeah.” Dean turned thoughtful. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

Castiel nodded. They couldn’t be farther apart if they lay on a spectrum of creatures that were spawned from the deepest pit of Hell to the greatest height of Heaven, but they were: “Two of a kind.”


End file.
